Page 43 of The Amber Sunburst

Zeno can’t look for too long.

Alexander’s eyes narrow, scarily analytical. He gets that expression now and again, and it unsettles Zeno a little more every time he sees it. Mostly because it doesn’t fit into what Alexander is—or, at least, what he presents himself to be.

It makes Zeno think that maybe Alexander isn’t a charismatic person with an occasional edge, but a manipulative person with an excellent handle on charisma.

Then Alexander notices Zeno’s staring, and he smiles with a wink, and all of Zeno’s worries fade away until he questions whether Alexander’s demeanor changed at all.

The Educator clears his throat, shifting Zeno’s attention back to the front of the room.

“Thank you all for your timely appearances,” the Educator says pointedly when Kallias slips in late and into the closest available seat, which happens to be next to a clearly pleased Alexander.

“I understand that your classes begin in forty minutes, so I will keep my announcement brief.

“As you are all aware, the Trials are imminent. Very few are granted the opportunity to participate in them. I expect you all to take full advantage of it.

“For those of you who were pulled up recently—” Zeno swears the Educator meets Alexander’s eyes for a moment “—there is nothing more important than this competition. It solidifies the future of the Republic. It is a show of strength to our subjects. It determines the Council of Kings and my very own successor, your future Educator.

“Most people are never gifted this chance. You are lucky. Luckier than lucky. No matter if you are of the youngest cohort allowed to take part in the challenges at fifteen, or the oldest at twenty-four, you must believe that you can succeed or else face a life of mediocrity.

“Your post-lunch classes are canceled today for planning meetings with your cohorts, led by your cohort leaders. Most of you have known these cohorts since your childhood. You are aware of all their weaknesses and strengths. And though trust in each other is vital, do not forget to be wary. There can only be one Educator. There can only be twenty Council members.”

He pauses, letting it land. Then he continues, “A little less than three weeks from now, you will all be given the theme of your first Trial. May the Forms grant you wisdom in Justice.”

The Educator claps, and it echoes through the room even once he’s walked leisurely out of the hall. A pair of Guardians hastily fold up the podium and follow after him.

Then the room erupts in chatter.

“He’s kind of scary,” Alexander observes, and Kallias rolls his eyes at him, leaving to find a less populated area to sit. Alexander watches him go.

“He’s definitely severe,” Eudoxia says. “Makes sense given how early he ascended to his position.”

Alexander hums, eyes unfocused.

Eudoxia notices his distraction too, because she snaps her fingers in front of his face and scolds, “Look alive, stupid. Eat your food. We can’t be late to class again.”

“That was only one time, and I maintain that it was worth it,” Alexander says.

“Your hair was more important than our joint punctuality?”

“Is that even a question?”

Zeno throws his head back and laughs.

As always, class is horribly boring. So much so that, at its end, Alexander whoops in excitement all the way down the stairs to the dining hall, eliciting a cheer from anyone he passes.

Zeno can’t think of one other person who could do that and not be scoffed at, but Alexander is special.

Once they’re all seated—Alexander complaining about the quality of the food and Eudoxia chastising him for his ingratitude—a shout echoes through the hall.

“Kallias!” Kleitos yells.

Oh, Forms. Not again.

Kallias raises his head just slightly, finds Kleitos halfway across the room, and rolls his eyes. Then he’s back to his book.

Kleitos stalks over, ready for a fight.

Zeno can only find it in himself to sigh.